Chapter IX: Silent Beauty

Frodo had no idea how much time had passed before he finally had a pair of legs - only that it had been a slow, excruciating process. He wouldn't have been able to hold back his screams of agony had it not been for the absence of his voice.

For a good long while, he just sat in the shadows, naked and leaning against boulder he'd inched up to to earlier. He grasped it for dear life when he finally mustered the strength to attempt standing up. He winced as he gradually shifted his weight to his feet. Unfortunately, the witch was telling the truth when she said that it would feel as though he was walking on daggers.

Frodo gritted his teeth and willed himself into taking his first steps. He placed his hand against the boulder to support himself. He took slow and small steps, as though he were a child first learning to walk. He looked for a landmark- anything, really - that was close enough for him to continue his journey. He spotted a smaller boulder that was a small ways away. He stared intently at it for a moment, deciding what he should do.

*I've got to be able to walk over there. If I can't do that, this'll all be for naught!*

A glare of determination brightened the blue of his eyes as he headed out from the safety of the shadows and into broad daylight, heading towards his landmark. The shore was currently devoid of any other souls, ensuring that there was no distraction from his exercise. His legs trembled violently as he walked. He tried to ignore the pain, unfortunately to no avail. He collapsed as soon as he reached his destination, grasping on to the rock for support. He was breathing heavily as he rested there, trying desperately to recover his strength and energy. He was about to rise to his feet again when his ears suddenly pricked up at the sound of neighing in the distance.

Frodo looked in the direction of the sound. His eyes immediately widened at the sight of Princess Merida astride her signature black and white steed heading right in his direction.

...

The last time she rode out like this, Merida thought she'd never be able to do it again. Yet, here she was, heading off on her next adventure. This was the first time she did so after her kidnapping, and, quite frankly, she couldn't help but look more carefully at her surroundings as a result. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the wind in her hair, the energetic neighs of Angus, the sound of hooves excitedly pounding the earth, and the whirl of nature's beauty around her all the same.

Yet even so, the memories of her previous trip still haunted the back of her mind. She tried pushing them away until they drifted to the blurry image of the man who had saved her life, followed by the quiet echoes of that hauntingly beautiful voice...

Before she knew it, she was instinctively heading towards the shore she'd been washed up on along with him. Once she reached it, she paused and looked out at the serene landscape before her. She was reverently scanning her surroundings, taking in every last detail... and then she realized she wasn't alone.

...

Frodo's first instinct was to hide behind the boulder that he'd walked to earlier when Merida approached stride her horse. Yet even so, he couldn't help but to peek out over the edge and peer out at her as she looked out at the shore before her.

Her gaze shifted right in his direction as she scanned everything about her. He instinctively pulled away and obscured himself from her view. He took a deep breath as he hid.

If I don't approach her now, I may not have another chance...!

He slowly rose to his feet, doing his very best to ignore the sensation resulting from the spell he was under. Frodo looked directly into the princess's eyes as he slowly and deliberately walked towards her.

...

Merida stared in awe at what she saw next. A pale, lean young man with a head full of dark brown ringlets rose from behind the nearest boulder and made direct eye contact as he walked towards her. Merida couldn't hold back a quiet gasp. He was... absolutely striking, to say the least. His gait, however, was quite awkward, as though he'd hadn't walked before. His legs shook with every step. Merida's face noticeably flushed when she realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. She dismounted Angus and removed her cloak to give to him.

"Hello...?"

The man placed his hand on Angus' side to steady himself and tried to mouth a brief response. She was sure he was trying to say "Hello" back, yet no sound came from him.

"Umm... are you all right, sir?"

He tried to say something in response, but alas, the same result as before ensued.

"You can't speak?"

He sighed and shook his head.

"Here. Take this," she said, handing him her cloak.

He mouthed a "Thank you," before proceeding to taking the cloak from her. However, as soon as he took his hand off Angus, he lost his balance and fell forward right in Merida's direction. She tried to catch him, but ended up collapsing under his weight and falling right onto her back. He fell on top of her, landing with the palms of his hands squarely on her shoulders. Merida's face turned redder than her hair as she looked up at him. She could tell from the look in his piercing blue eyes that he was feeling the exact same way she was - an awkward blend of mortification, fascination, attraction, and... familiarity. Now that she thought about it, that face looked eerily familiar - she could have sworn she'd seen him before. She briefly glanced down at his chest and shoulders, and then shifted her gaze back to his face. She quickly found out where the attraction part came from.

The man got off her as quickly as he could and steadied himself against Angus. He slowly walked back to the boulder, taking the cloak back with him. He sat on it as he promptly wrapped the garment about his shoulders. As soon as Merida noticed him draping it's edge over

Merida looked back at him again, trying to remember when she saw him last. The memory of waking up to the sight of the man on this shore suddenly flashed through her mind again - and suddenly the one standing before her looked eerily similar to the face in her memory.

"Have I... seen you before?"

He looked up at her with those brilliant blue eyes and nodded. A thrill of excitement ran down Merida's spine.

"Do you have a name?," she asked.

He nodded again, and despite his lack of a voice, he tried to answer. Merida suddenly focused on his lips, trying to make out what he was saying.

"Frodo...? Is that right?"

He nodded a third time and smiled. Merida's heart skipped a beat in spite of itself in response. She smiled back as she mounted her horse and extended her hand to him.

"Well, come on, Frodo! You can't be walking around the Highlands in naught but your skin and a cloak!"

Frodo took her hand hoisted himself onto the horse, gently placing his hands on her waist.

"YA!"

The two of them rode off towards the looming stone castle perched upon the hills like a king in his throne. A bit of fog was beginning to roll in at the foot of those hills, casting that castle in a regal, magical light. This was what Merida called home.